Charlemagne's Champion
by NickHimSelf
Summary: This is a story about a French Hellsing-like Organization called the knights of charlemagne. What happens when FREAK chipped vampires show up in France? The Knights must go to hellsing for help. Rating is for later chapters, Please R
1. Default Chapter

Charlemagne's Champion  
  
Disclaimer: Don't own Hellsing or any of its characters. (Yes, eventually they will come into this story.)  
  
Prologue: Origins  
  
"In today's news, a great tragedy has occurred on the French coastline. A small fishing village was attacked by terrorists and was nearly wiped out. The village has been liberated by the Special Forces Anti- Terrorist division, but there are virtually no survivors. One can only wonder what would drive these fanatics to such extremes of violence. With you every hour, I'm Belle Chervouz, and this is French World news."  
  
John Carrigan turned off the TV set. As usual, the Knights higher-ups and their newscaster Belle Chervouz had managed to give a plausible, easily accepted story to the people and press about what had happened in the village. It had, of course, not been wiped out by terrorists. The Knights of Charlemagne was an organization created to destroy preternatural threats to France. John was American, on loan from the U.S. department of preternatural defense. A pair of vampires had attacked and killed everyone in the village, turning them all into ghouls. John had gone in alone, making his way past the ghouls without being seen, and had killed the two vampires. He was shocked to find that the ghouls they had made had not been destroyed. After exterminating them, he had brought back some bodies, as well as the two full vampire's bodies. John was waiting in his quarters now as the forensic specialists examined the bodies. To pass the time, he was cleaning and oiling his weapons.  
  
As John turned back to his cleaning table, he caught sight of himself in a mirror. He cut a very intimidating figure, standing six feet seven inches tall in his bare feet, and weighing 335 pounds stark naked. There was almost no fat on his body. His arms were massive, bigger around than most people's legs. Huge, bulging deltoid muscles completed the look. He could lift nearly 5000 pounds.  
  
It was fitting that he should have such huge muscles and be so strong, thought John, seeing as how he was not fully human. John was a nanotech cyborg. The technique had first been developed by the Vatican Section XIII, but the Knights of Charlemagne, working with the U.S. B.P.D. had perfected it. Nanotech implants had been surgically grafted to his heart, eyes, brain, and muscles. These implants contained nanomachines that constantly injected different types of steroids into the various areas that they were connected to. The Knights of Charlemagne medical division had recently developed non-addictive forms of steroids whose affects were almost permanent. When injected into his body via the nanomachines, the steroids increased his reflexes, strength, and endurance. The implants in his eyes had given him the ability to magnify his vision, switch to infrared, and, when combined with micro cameras on his weapons, use a targeting computer to aim his guns.  
  
John sat back down at his table to clean his weapons. The first thing that he cleaned was his pair of Ingram MAC-10s chambered for .45 ACP. He swabbed the barrels out several times with cleaning solution, and sprayed some lube onto the bolt and trigger mechanisms. He rubbed the entire surface of each weapon with oil to prevent rusting, and then reassembled the guns. The MAC-10s went into dual cross-draw shoulder holsters.  
  
John picked up his pair of Heckler and Koch Mk 23 SOCOM .45s and began to clean them. Even though the HKs were the most reliable pistols he had ever used, it was a good idea to keep them in top form. He field- stripped the weapons, cleaned and greased them, reassembled them, and slid them into their twin belt holsters. John took his Colt Python .357 Magnum and swabbed out the barrel. No other cleaning was necessary, as the weapon had not been fired in the latest mission. He greased the surface and lubed the cylinder, then slid the weapon into its boot holster.  
  
As John was finishing the cleaning and greasing of his sawn-off double barreled shotgun, the intercom above his workbench chimed. He snapped the weapon closed and shoved it into its upside down backpack holster. John hit the intercom button.  
  
"What is it?" he demanded. "Did you find anything out about the vampires?"  
  
"Yes, John, we did," came the reply in a slightly subdued voice. "I think you should get down here."  
  
Okay, my first Knights character was something of a flop. This time I'm going for someone a little less over the top. Please review and give suggestions or constructive criticism, but please no flames. 


	2. Chapter 1: The Battle Begins

Chapter 1: The Battle Begins  
  
Author's Note: Sorry there wasn't any action in the prologue, I'll try to make up for it with this chapter. Be warned: if you don't like Matrix style- acrobatics, you won't like this. Here we go!  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own Hellsing or Neo (just in case the one mention of his name is illegal without a disclaimer.)  
  
John Carrigan looked at the head forensics Doctor of the Knights of Charlemagne in dismay. He had just finished hearing the news about the vampire bodies, and it was not good. "So someone is manufacturing vampires? With these little micro-chips?" "It would seem so," replied the doctor. "This explains why the ghouls did not all die when you killed the master vampire. It also explains why he went down so easily; the circuitry can cause vampiric change, but cannot grant full powers. This vampire, while still able to produce ghouls, was weaker than a fledgling No Life King. He was barely stronger than the ghouls he made.  
  
"Even still," said John. "A normal human wouldn't have been able to take him. This is very bad news. With these little chips, someone could create an army of sentient vampires. This is very, very bad news."  
  
"Indeed it is, John, but I have some that is worse still," said a voice from the door of the morgue. John turned and saw Pierre, the Chervouz family's faithful butler. He was an expert in detection and forensics, a skilled field surgeon, and a master of fighting with Indian Katal blades. He was an invaluable asset to the Knights, and one of John's best friends.  
  
"Oh, really?" John shot back. "What could be worse than a vampire manufacturing line?" "The fact that a vampire who is most probably from that manufacturing line has overtaken a multi-level parking garage right here in Paris. The Gendarmes have already lost 16 men, and it is time for you to enter the fray. Director Chervouz wants you there ten minutes ago."  
  
"All right," said John. "Tell him I'm on my way. Maybe I can get to the bottom of this. Are my weapons loaded?" "Yes, I got everything ready on my way down here. Your coat's magazine pouches are full, your weapons are loaded and in their holsters, and your van is idling and ready to go. I also took the liberty of supplying you with some vampire interrogation gear, should you be able to take this one alive."  
  
"Thanks, Pierre. I don't know what I'd do without you." And with that, John took off down the hall. He stopped to put on his specially tailored, Kevlar-lined trench-coat, and then headed out to his van. He leaped behind the wheel and peeled out of the garage, leaving a strip of rubber on the asphalt behind him.  
  
"Really," said Pierre as he closed the doors. "There's no need for theatrics.  
  
John careened around a corner and slid to a stop in front of the police barrier. He flashed his Knights of Charlemagne ID at the guards and headed to the temporary police command post. "I'm from the Knights of Charlemagne. Who's in charge here?" "I am," said a distinguished-looking man in a commander's uniform. "You must be from the Knights. Welcome."  
  
"Tell me the situation," said John. "What's going on here?"  
  
"About 2 hours ago, a lone man with a gun killed 3 people in the parking lot, and proceeded to drink their blood. The security guards attempted to bring him into custody and were slaughtered for their efforts. The remaining security forces sealed the garage and called for backup. We sent a team in 30 minutes ago, but lost contact with them. We are preparing a rescue team to go in with you now."  
  
"Don't bother with the rescue team, Commander, your men are now worse than dead. Any that are still alive I can bring out when I'm finished. And I won't need the help, either. Your team would just slow me down. I'm going in now. Keep everyone out of the garage until I come back."  
  
As the Gendarme Commander sputtered weak protests, John turned and headed down the ramp. The commander shook his head. This Knight better be as good as he said he was, or heads would role. The Knight's, most likely.  
  
The first level of the garage was deserted, as quiet as a tomb. As he had that thought, John realized that the garage might very well be a tomb for many people. The 2 hour delay before he had been called in was plenty of time for the vampire to change every person in the place into ghouls.  
  
John scanned the room, every sense alert. He switched his eye implants to night vision mode, and checked each area. There was nothing. John searched the ceiling for bloodsuckers setting an ambush, but saw nothing. Then, he heard a bloodcurdling scream for help coming from the floor above him.  
  
With all the speed that the steroids could give him, John raced up the stairs. He hit the locked door with his shoulder, blowing it out of its frame. As he got into the open, he heard the scream suddenly end in a gurgling cry. He turned and saw a group of at least 40 ghouls feasting on a freshly killed man in police dress. Some of the ghouls wore uniforms identical to his. John drew his Ingrams. "Let's Rock," he said, and grinned.  
  
The ghouls turned away from there meal at the sound of his voice. John lifted his guns and raked the group of ghouls with automatic fire. Several of them went down before the guns clicked empty, hit through the head or heart by a lucky shot. When the Ingrams ran dry, John holstered them, pulled out his SOCOMs, and activated his targeting computer.  
  
Everything seemed to slow down just a little as the nanomachines flooded his body with adrenalin. He lifted his guns, and crosshairs appeared on his field of vision where the bullets would impact, making aiming a cinch. John took aim and shot a pair of ghouls through the head. As they fell, he walked forward, firing. Each shot took a ghoul through the head or heart. By the time the first pair of ghouls had fallen to the floor, 12 more had joined them.  
  
The SOCOMs were empty, so John holstered them. Most of the remaining ghouls were in police uniforms. They moaned, and aimed a variety of police- issue weapons at him. As they began to fire, John cartwheeled to the right, and then rebounded off of a pillar and into the center of the group. He chopped a pair of ghouls in the neck with sufficient force to send them flying 30 feet through the air. He kicked a third in the crotch and then brought his knee into its face, sending it spinning away. He pulled out his sawn-off shotgun and bashed a ghoul's face in with the stock, and then shot another right in the nose, completely removing its head from its body. Another ghoul was cut nearly in half as the silver buckshot from the ten- gauge hit it in the heart. John reloaded and holstered the shotgun, and then shoved it back into its holster. He snatched his .357 from his boot, and shot 6 of the remaining 10 ghouls right between the eyes. Two more went down with busted skulls as he slammed their heads together. The last ghoul was killed as John pulled out his shotgun again and gave it both barrels in the gut. He crushed its head under his boot, and then stopped to survey the situation. Every single ghoul had been killed, and nothing else was moving in the area. John holstered the shotgun and began to reload all of his weapons.  
  
As the last clip was slid into its place, John heard the click of a safety being released from the shadows to his left. Without thinking, he back flipped up and over the nearest car, pulling out his machine pistols as he did. He landed on the other side, covered by the car, a large SUV. As he landed, the bullet struck the other side of the car. Had he hesitated for an instant, he would have been hit. John heard a chuckle from the shadows.  
  
"That was pretty good. I didn't expect you to be so fast. This will be more fun than I thought." "Maybe so!" shouted John. "But I'll be the one having fun, you freak! You'll be dead!" As he spoke, John cartwheeled out from behind the car, firing toward the voice he had heard. He saw a blur as the gunman dodged the bullet, marking him as a vampire. John hit the ground and rolled over behind another car, putting it between him and the vampire.  
  
"Better and better," said the vampire. "I didn't think the Knights had someone this good. I won't make that mistake again."  
  
"You won't have the chance!" shouted John. He activated his reflex boosting drugs, and back flipped out and away from the car, right over the vampire. Time seemed to stop as John fired at the vampire in midair. It dodged to the right, and John fired a burst into its path, hitting it dead center. He and the vampire hit the ground at the same time.  
  
"You must be another one of those microchip-wannabes," said John. "A real vampire would have been much harder to take down."  
  
"At least I don't think I'm Neo," hissed the vampire. John crouched down and belted the vampire in the face with the front of his Ingram.  
  
"No backtalk, freak. I want some information. Who gave you that chip? Did you volunteer or were you forced into it? And where did it happen? Tell me!  
  
The vampire laughed derisively.  
  
"I tell you nothing, you stupid action movie wannabe. You can just ask someone else, 'cause you'll get nothing from me!"  
  
John took out a bottle of Holy Water from his interrogation kit. Pierre had been correct that he'd need this. He poured some onto the vampire's leg, and watched as it screamed in pain. The water acted like acid, burning the flesh of the vampire's thigh.  
  
"You'll tell me alright, or I'll make sure you die slow."  
  
"Naw," said the vampire. "I don't think you'll have the chance. The people who gave me this chip prepared for something like this. They don't want people giving out valuable information, now do they?"  
  
The vampire snapped his fingers, and flames cascaded over his body. He screamed in pain and cursed John one last time. Then, he was gone.  
  
"Damn!" said John. He had the feeling that this was going to be a tough case to crack. He headed down the stairs and out of the garage, holstering his weapons and deactivating his implants. The fight was over, and they needed to recharge. He brushed past the Gendarmes, and headed to his van, grabbing his cell phone when he got there.  
  
"Pierre, I didn't get any info. The freak committed suicide rather than tell me anything. I'm heading back now. See if you can find anything about other incidents like this."  
  
"I already have, sir. It seems that there has been a rash of technological vampire incidents of late in England. Perhaps we should contact the Hellsing organization for more information."  
  
"If they'll give us any," muttered John. The Hellsing organization was not on good terms with the Knights, because the Knights were a secular organization. They used holy water and blessed bullets, but most of them had no religious beliefs and the organization had no religious creed. Hellsing saw this as sacrilegious and tried to have as little to do with the Knights as possible. Still, this was a serious problem, and Hellsing always seemed to care more about lives than religious differences. They might be able to help. "I need to talk to the Director about what's going on. Go ahead and call them, Pierre, and see if we can't talk to Sir Hellsing herself. We're going to need all the help we can get on this one.  
  
Well, what do you think? Was that better? I don't know when the next chapter will be up; I'm a perfectionist so it could take a while. Once again, please read and review, but no flames. Thanks! 


	3. Chapter 2: The Gathering

Chapter 2: The Gathering.  
  
A/N: Enjoying the story so far? I can't tell, because no one has reviewed. Please let me know if you like it! By the way, in order understand some of the things I talk about here, you should read my first story about the Knights of Charlemagne, A Child of the Night. It features a werewolf named Jean-Paul Garouz, who is going to be featured in this story. Well, enough of my rant, on with the story!  
  
Integra Hellsing sat at her desk, thinking hard. She had just received a call from Pierre Consteau, the Knights of Charlemagne retainer and Chervouz family butler. He had given her the unsettling news that FREAK- chipped vampires had appeared in France, and even worse, in Paris. Integra had thought that the FREAK situation was dying down, as the creatures' numbers had been dwindling in England. Now she realized that they were simply focusing on other areas.  
  
Masseur Consteau had asked for information regarding the FREAK-chips. Integra had at first refused, because Hellsing was not on good terms with the Knights of Charlemagne. Despite bearing the name of a great religious leader, they were a secular organization, and viewed Hellsing as a group of foolish fanatics. However, the fact that they had asked for help might be an indicator of a change of heart. With this in mind, Integra had proposed an exchange of information, and had instructed Masseur Consteau to pass on the message to his master. She expected that Director Chervouz would be calling her anytime to discuss the trade. As a matter of fact, the phone was ringing now.  
  
Integra picked up the phone and said,  
  
"Yes? This is Director Hellsing."  
  
"Sir Hellsing," replied the strongly accented voice of Francis Chervouz, "thank you for responding to our request. You mentioned a trade of information. What are you willing to offer us?"  
  
"I should think that, as you were the one who asked for our help, it is I who should be asking that question," said Integra icily. "We have absolutely no reason to give you any information at all, especially considering the fact that in our last conversation you completely refused to give me any. Therefore, what do you have to offer me?  
  
"Very well, you are right. I apologize." Director Chervouz sighed in resignation, and pressed on. "I am willing to tell you the true story of what happened in the village of South-shire two years ago. In return I would like whatever information you are willing to give me on the artificially created vampires. Does that sound fair?  
  
"Yes," said Integra after a moment's consideration, "I believe that will do. You may begin with the story of what really happened in South- shire. Do be truthful this time."  
  
"Yes, of course. As you must know by now, my niece Belle was living in South-shire at the time. The Knights of Charlemagne were keeping watch over her, as I wished her to come and work alongside me after she had completed school. Our surveillance indicated a growing vampire presence in the area. Doubtless Hellsing would have cleaned it out eventually, but I was afraid for my niece's life. I sent an agent of ours, Jean-Paul Garouz, to exterminate the vampires and bring my niece to safety. As it turns out, I was not a moment to soon, for the night that he arrived, Belle was attacked. He saved her life and later told her of my offer. She accepted at once and moved to Paris to begin training. Now, she is one of our top disinformation specialists."  
  
"I suspected as much. Tell me, is Masseur Garouz still with you?"  
  
"I'm afraid not. We had a falling out. I criticized his methods in eliminating the vampires and he took offense and left. He had been getting restless anyway, and we both decided it was time for him to move on. As far as I know, he is making a killing on the mercenary market at this point."  
  
"I see," said Integra. "Very well, you have upheld your end of the bargain, so now I shall uphold mine. These artificial vampires are created by implanting what are known as FREAK-chips behind the ear. The chips stimulate the brain and cause the vampiric change. However, the chips cannot produce the full powers of a vampire and therefore the technological freaks are very weak. They cannot even regenerate lost body parts or close bullet wounds. They are little more than fledglings."  
  
"Yes, yes, we know that already. Our autopsy of the defeated vampires was sufficient to tell us that. What we need to know is where the FREAK- chips are coming from!"  
  
"Join the club," said Integra bitterly. "Hellsing at this point has no concrete leads to tell us the answer to your question. We are investigating, but as of now have not found anything particularly helpful. We found a factory in London, but it offered no evidence to point us toward the real manufacturers."  
  
"Is that so?" asked Francis. "Then I would like to propose that we work together. I have a large and well-organized spy network that runs throughout Europe. Perhaps by combining my resources with your powerful agents we could finally end this menace. What do you say?"  
  
Integra considered. Hellsing was making no progress at all, and the Knights of Charlemagne did indeed have much to offer her in the way of manpower and technology. There was no more well funded organization in all of Europe. However, Chervouz had a tendency to ask too much for his services, and the theological differences between the two organizations were hard to get past. Still, that many resources were hard to pass up. Integra made her decision.  
  
"Hellsing will accept your offer with two conditions. First, there will be no discriminating based upon religion. No matter how silly you consider our beliefs to be, you will respect them. Second, we will have equal control over this investigation. You will do nothing behind my back. Is this acceptable?"  
  
Francis weighed the options. Hellsing had less funding and manpower than the Knights, but they had more experience with the artificial vampires, and they also had two very powerful agents to offer. If the investigation ran into the theoretical vampire army, the two full vampires would be a great asset to have. The fact that they were a bunch of religious fanatics notwithstanding, Hellsing could be a very valuable ally.  
  
"All right, I think that is fair. How do you wish to arrange the meeting?"  
  
"I will send an agent of mine named Seras Victoria to help in the investigation. If and when something concrete is found, I will send Alucard as well."  
  
"Good. We will prepare a welcome for Miss Victoria, and look forward to her arrival. Thank you for being so agreeable in this matter. Good bye."  
  
Francis Chervouz hung up, leaving Integra to wonder briefly if she had made the right decision. How could a man so pompous possibly give her any assistance? But, Integra had given her word, and she intended to keep it. She picked up her extension.  
  
"Walter, I trust you were listening to the proceeding conversation. Please inform Miss Victoria that she will be leaving for Paris at the end of this week, and arrange a mode of transportation."  
  
"Of course, my lady," replied Walter. "I shall do so at once."  
  
Seras Victoria was practicing with the Halconnen. She was working hard to get used to the monstrous weapon, and had almost gotten to the point that she could fire without flinching. She was still having trouble recovering from the shock of the weapon's muzzle flash, and was putting in extra time at the range to try and make up for it. So far, it hadn't worked. She was glad of an excuse to stop when Walter entered the range control room and signaled for her to come and talk to him.  
  
"Miss Seras, I wish to compliment you on your continuing improvement with the Halconnen. You really have done well."  
  
"Thanks, Walter," blushed Seras. She knew Walter was only trying to cheer her up, but she still appreciated the praise. She got so little of that around here.  
  
"I have come to inform you that you will be flying to Paris at the end of the week to begin investigation into FREAK-chip vampire incidents in France. The Knights of Charlemagne wish to cooperate in ridding Europe of those freaks once and for all."  
  
"Paris!?" said Seras. "All right! I've always wanted to go to Paris."  
  
"Somehow I don't think you'll be doing much shopping, police girl," said a smug voice from the entrance to the range. "If I know anything about the Knights, they'll be working you into the ground. They're not fond of newcomers over there."  
  
Seras sighed. As usual, her Master had managed to put a rain on her parade. Couldn't he ever let her be excited about anything? Oh well. At least she would get to see the city, even if she couldn't explore it.  
  
"You will leave at 7 o' clock this Saturday. Pack lightly, as the Knights will be providing most of the necessities. Good day. "  
  
Walter turned and left. After a moment, Alucard followed. Seras took the Halconnen apart and began to clean it, excited. Even there weren't going to be any shopping trips, she was going to Paris!  
  
Well, what did you think? Did I keep everyone in character? Please Review and let me know, I'm not posting anymore until I get some feedback. And also, if you don't want to read A Child of the Night, I'll just say that Jean-Paul infringed on Hellsing's territory and Francis Chervouz refused to tell Integra anything about the incident when she called. R&R, but no flames. Thanks! 


	4. Chapter 3: The Arrival

Chapter 3: The Arrival  
  
A/N: Thanks to all reviewers, if you have any suggestions, comments, or criticisms, let me know.  
  
It was 7:15 PM on Saturday night, and Seras was exhausted. She had hardly gotten any sleep the day before, what with packing and last-minute briefings. Integra had given her orders to play her cards close to the chest, since she still didn't trust the Knights. Seras would do her best, but it would be hard being on her own like that. She hoped she'd be able to make some friends among the Knights, or else this was going to be miserable.  
"When will this bloody plane arrive?!" snarled Integra, who had come to make sure Seras' departure went smoothly. The flight was scheduled to leave at 7:00, but it hadn't even gotten there yet. Integra was furious. They had had a horrible time getting their various weapons through security, and Integra was in a foul mood. She angrily paced the length of the aisle, muttering and swearing under her breath.  
  
"You know, Master, you could just go back and leave her to me," smirked Alucard, who had come along as well. He had had to get up early anyway, since his sleep patterns were tied to Seras', so he had figured he might as well see her off. He was, of course, thoroughly enjoying Integra's frustration, and was doing his best to add to it.  
  
"Oh, brilliant," snapped Integra. "Yes, of course, that's just what I'll do, leave you here unsupervised among hundreds of unsuspecting humans. How stupid do you think I am?"  
  
Alucard smiled evilly. "Are you sure you want me to answer that?"  
  
Integra stopped pacing and shot Alucard a glare that could have burned through steel. "NO."  
  
Seras was sitting in her chair, wishing she could break up this little spat, when she saw a plane coming up to the entry ramp.  
"Oh, good! It's finally here."  
  
She picked up her carry-on, and turned to Integra and Alucard.  
  
"I guess this is it, Police Girl," said Alucard. "Try not to screw up too much over in France. And if you do go shopping, buy me some sunglasses. Now, I'm going back to bed." Alucard grinned and walked away. Integra watched him leave and shook her head, and then turned back to Seras.  
  
"All right, Seras, I will expect weekly reports on what's going on over in France. Remember to be careful and don't give out too much information. I don't trust those French idiots as far as I can throw them. Good luck, and good bye."  
  
Integra followed Alucard out of the terminal. Seras watched them go for a moment, and then turned and headed into the plane. As she disappeared from view, a man in a dark suit and trench coat got up from a chair 3 rows over and headed to the public phone in the terminal. He picked it up and dialed a special number.  
  
"She's on her way. Be ready."  
  
Pierre Consteau scanned the skies impatiently through the airport window. What was taking so long? He and John had come to the airport 45 minutes early in order to ensure that they were there before the Hellsing agent. It had been no easy matter getting John's arsenal through security, and Pierre's Katal and .50 A.E. Desert Eagle had not been fun either. It had taken nearly half an hour for the customs people to call the Knights office and ensure that the two men were cleared for weapons carry within an airport. By that time, John had been nearly to the point of breaking the security guard's neck. Needless to say, neither man was currently in a good mood. And the fact that the plane was an hour late was not helping. John was swearing under his breath and pacing.  
  
Pierre idly looked over the crowd. There were quite a few late night fliers dozing in their chairs. They didn't look any happier to be here than Pierre was. Where the hell was that plane?  
  
"Flight 37 has arrived in terminal 16," announced a voice from the speakers. "Passengers departing now."  
  
Pierre sighed with relief and looked at the passengers as they came off. He had been told that the Hellsing agent was a young woman. He had also been told that she was a vampire, a revelation that gave him no small amount of unease. Was she trustworthy? That remained to be seen.  
  
"John, scan the passengers with your thermal implant. Let's see if we can't get the drop on this Hellsing creature." John overlaid his vision with thermal imaging, and looked for a woman that gave off less heat than the other passengers.  
  
"I got her," he said. "The blonde with the short spiky hair and pink sweatshirt."  
  
"All right. I'll go introduce myself." Pierre walked over to Seras, while John stayed back, ready to cover him if the vampire turned violent.  
  
Seras looked around for the Knights escort. The flight had been horrible, with enormous amounts of turbulence. She was starving, as she had not been able to drink any of her blood packs on the crowded plane. She wanted nothing more than to relax and have a drink. Setting her bag on a chair, she scanned the crowd, looking again for the Knights. She saw an extremely large man wearing a trenchcoat sitting in a chair in the next section. Seras had been told to look for a giant in a coat. As she started toward him, a hand came down on her shoulder. She spun around, startled, and reached for the 9mm pistol that she had under her shirt.  
  
"Wait!" said the tall, wiry man before her. "I mean you no harm. You are from Hellsing, correct?"  
  
"Yes," said Seras, slowly taking her hand off the gun. "That's right. Who are you?"  
  
"My name is Pierre Consteau, and I represent the Knights of Charlemagne. My companion, that large fellow over there in the trenchcoat, is John Carrigan. We are here to collect you. Did you have a pleasant trip?"  
  
"Not really," she replied picking up her bag. "The turbulence was awful crossing the Channel. And I'm starving. Do you know of someplace private where I could eat?"  
  
Pierre's manner turned slightly cold. "You are a vampire. Exactly what do you mean by eat?" As he spoke, he reached his hand back toward the twin Katal blades concealed at the small of his back. They had been blessed, and plated with silver, and were most effective against vampires.  
  
Seras looked at the floor, slightly crestfallen. She should have known that this would happen. She pointed to her bag. "You know, blood. Don't worry!" she said, as Pierre scowled and put his hand under his coat, "its blood that was donated through blood drives. Nobody was killed or hurt. They didn't even know that I would drink it."  
  
"Very well," said Pierre. "I suggest you wait until we return to headquarters. This airport has too tight of security for anyplace to truly be private. Let's collect John and head back to HQ."  
  
They walked over to where the big man was sitting. As Seras approached, he stood and extended his hand. When Seras shook it, she was amazed at the strength of his grip. This guy was stronger than she was! How was that possible?  
  
"Nice to meet you, Miss. . .?"  
  
"Victoria," replied Seras. "Seras Victoria. Nice to meet you too, Mister Carrigan."  
  
"Well," said Pierre briskly. "As the introductions are finished, why don't we go collect Miss Victoria's luggage, get back to headquarters and get her settled in?"  
  
As the three of them were walking toward the luggage rack, John leaned over to speak to Pierre.  
  
"There's something I don't like about that group of tourists following us," he said.  
  
Pierre looked back thoughtfully. He has learned over the past two years that John's danger sense bordered on clairvoyance. "Have you tried scanning them?"  
  
"Not yet," said John. "Miss Victoria, can you stop a moment? There's something I want to check."  
  
As Seras stopped, puzzled, John looked back and turned on his infrared sensor. He scanned the crowd behind them wondering what was bothering him. Then, as he looked at a small group of teenagers, he realized what it was. The people behind them were giving off almost no heat!  
  
"Pierre," he whispered urgently, "They're vampires."  
  
"What! How?!" Pierre turned and looked at the group of teens. Sure enough, they all had red eyes.  
  
"Is there a problem?" asked a voice from behind them. They turned and saw a security guard standing there.  
  
"Yes, actually," said Pierre. "That group of teenagers have been following us and making threatening gestures for the last ten minutes. Could you tell them to stop?"  
  
"Yes, of course," replied the security guard, and then set off toward the teens, muttering about idiot young punks.  
  
When the leader of the group, a punk with pierced everything, saw the guard talking to Pierre, he grinned and turned to his comrades. "Looks like our cover's been blown, guys. It's Showtime."  
  
"All Right!!" said the group of punks. They turned back to the security guard, and then, as he reached them, produced a variety of automatic weapons from underneath their coats. The guard stopped dead.  
  
"HELL YEAH!" shouted the punks, and opened fire. The guard never had a chance. He went down in a spray of blood, his gun still holstered.  
  
When John saw the punks pull out their guns, he jumped into action. "Pierre! Get down!" he shouted, and dived forward, pulling out his Ingrams as he did so.  
  
Pierre threw himself to the ground, drawing his Desert Eagle. He spared a glance at Seras, who was running for the baggage rack, where her luggage had just appeared. Cowardly monster, he thought, and began firing at the vampires.  
  
John's dive had taken him straight forward into the group of vampires, knocking two of them over. The other six aimed their guns at him, but they were far to slow. John crossed his arms and fired, hitting a pair of freaks dead on in the heart. He dropped to one knee and spun around, stopping with his guns aimed right at the chins of two more. The Ingrams roared, and the vampires' heads disappeared. As the bodies hit the floor, Pierre's Desert Eagle boomed deafeningly, the huge silver slug taking off a vampire's head. John rolled to the right as a vampire fired an Uzi at him, missing completely. The vampire aimed at the still rolling John, and then pitched forward as Pierre's bullet hit him in the back of the head.  
  
John sprang to his feet, crossing his arms and firing his last few rounds at the vampire nearest him. There were only 3 rounds left in each gun, but the flew straight and true, striking the vampire in the head and heart. It went down and collapsed into to dust.  
  
Pierre, meanwhile, had run out of ammunition for his .50. He holstered the weapon, and drew his Katal. He rolled forward and thrust both blades into the heart of the nearest vampire before it could react. He pulled the blades out and spun around, severing the vampire's head with one quick stroke.  
  
The two vampire hunters stopped and surveyed the area. The vampires were all dead. Several people were cowering behind chairs and ticket booths. As Pierre watched, one of them stood and pulled out a grenade launcher. He grinned, revealing long yellow teeth, and aimed at John.  
  
"Oh no," whispered Pierre. "John! Look out!"  
  
Suddenly there was a sound like a nuclear bomb going off. The vampire disappeared in a huge fireball, sending several people flying through the air from the concussion. John and Pierre turned to see Seras lying on the floor, holding a huge sniper rifle. They stared at her in awe as she opened the chamber and inserted a 30mm shell.  
  
"Is that all of them?" shouted Seras. "Are they gone?"  
  
It took Pierre several moments to recover from the shock before he could reply.  
  
"Yes, they are all gone; and I suggest we leave as well, before the authorities detain us." Seras nodded and quickly took the huge rifle apart, stowing it in a suitcase. She grabbed the rest of her luggage and ran for the door. Pierre wiped off his blades and put them into their scabbards. John reloaded and holstered his guns, and the three of them headed out onto the runway. They raced across the runway and out into the suburbs that bordered it. Pierre radioed the chauffeur of the armored limo that they had brought along, and they waited. 3 minutes later, the limo careened around the corner and stopped before them. They threw themselves into it and slammed the door. The chauffeur floored the gas pedal and they raced off into the night.  
  
"Well," panted Pierre, as he sank back into the car's seat. "Welcome to Paris, Miss Victoria."  
  
You like? Let me know! No idea when next chapter will be up, it depends on how well the creative juices flow. 


	5. Chapter 4: Reconciliation

Chapter 4: Reconciliation  
  
A/N: thanks for all reviews and ideas! I will take them into account.  
  
----------------------------  
  
The Being sat on his throne, looking into a pool. In it, he could see a dark-skinned-woman speaking on a telephone. A tall man in red stood behind her. The Being swirled the pool with his finger, and the image changed to a blonde girl. She had just finished talking to a large man in a trenchcoat, and looked on the verge of tears. A tall Frenchman walked in and sat next to her. As he did, the Being grinned. Everything was going according to plan.  
  
------  
Seras sat and looked at the phone, in a stupor. She was completely exhausted. She had just finished giving her report to Integra. Integra had commended her for her performance, but had criticized her use of the Halconnen in a crowded terminal. She had also asked why Seras had not sensed the vampires, a question which Seras had been embarrassed to answer. The truth was that she had been too enthralled with the sight of Paris through the terminal windows to notice anything else. In all, it had been a very draining telephone conversation. Seras still had not gotten a chance to eat, and she was on the verge of collapse.  
  
She turned and pulled out two of her blood packs. Opening the first one, she drank it down, shuddering slightly at the taste. She wasn't used to having them warm, and it seemed too much like fresh blood for her liking. As she finished the first one, she heard a noise at her door. She looked up and saw John Carrigan standing in the doorway. He was looking down at her with a slightly disgusted air.  
  
"I was coming to tell you that dinner is almost ready, but I guess you won't be joining us after all." He turned away and headed away down the hall. Seras threw the empty pack aside and raced after him.  
  
"Wait!" she called. "Can I just come along anyway?"  
  
"Why should you? Are you tired of cold blood, and want some fresh from the jugular?"  
  
Seras looked up at him, stung. Why was he being so mean? What had she done? Integra had made it clear that she was harmless.  
  
"What's wrong?" she asked, reaching her hand out. "Why do are you so mad at me?"  
  
He slapped her hand away, looking furious.  
"What's wrong?" he replied, his voice low and angry. "I'll tell you what's wrong. What's wrong is the fact that I have to work with one of the monsters who killed my sister. I've made a career out of exterminating demons like you, and now I'm being forced to cooperate with you and even be civil to you. That, freak, is what's wrong.  
  
He slammed the door of Seras' room and stalked away, leave the vampire at the brink of tears. She collapsed onto her bed and put her head in her hands, struggling to maintain control. How could he say that! She had saved his life in the terminal! She hadn't harmed anyone! How could he treat her like that? Seras gave up on control. She put her head down and sobbed.  
  
Pierre was rushing to dinner when he heard Seras' low sobs. He paused, listening. He started to keep walking (he really had to get to the kitchen to serve dinner), but his compassionate nature just couldn't let him leave without seeing what was wrong. He sighed, and, with a light knock at the door, entered the room.  
  
"What's the matter, Miss Victoria?"  
  
Seras looked up, startled. She hadn't heard the butler out in the hall.  
  
"Oh," she said, wiping her face and attempting to pull herself together, "it's nothing, really. I'm alright. Besides," she said, looking up at him, "why are you so concerned about a Vampire, anyway?" She spat the word vampire bitterly.  
  
"Ah, I see. You've been talking to John, haven't you? What did he say to you?"  
  
Pierre sat down next to Seras on the bed, looking at her concernedly. The look on his face was enough to make Seras start sniffling again.  
  
"He saw me drinking blood," she said, pointing to the empty blood pack on the floor. "It triggered something off. He called me a freak, and said that I was one of the monsters that killed his sister. He said that he doesn't want to work with one of the demons he's made a career out of killing." Seras' voice wavered, and she took a deep breath. "What's the matter with him anyway? What happened with his sister?"  
  
Pierre sighed. "That is a long and sordid story, my dear. John's younger sister was an up-and-coming actress in the United States. She had been engaged to be married to a rich young man in Los Angeles. Somehow, she found out that the man was a vampire, and she tried to break off the engagement. In a fit of rage, her vampire fiancé killed her and turned her into a ghoul. John went looking for her after she failed to turn up at the wedding rehearsal, and found the creature that she had become. He was forced to kill his own sister, and he has never recovered from the pain. He was at that time a member of the U.S. Navy S.E.A.L.s. He used the skills learned in the military to hunt the vampire down and kill it. Ever since that day, he has hated vampires and has devoted his life to eradicating them. He volunteered for the nanotech implant procedure in order to be more able to achieve this goal."  
  
"Nanotech implant?" said Seras. "You mean he's a cyborg?" Her own experience with cyborgs had left her deeply mistrustful of them. The only one she had ever met was the Paladin Alexander Anderson, and he was not a very good representative.  
  
Pierre nodded. John was indeed a cyborg, and had been one for the entire 2 years he had been with the Knights.  
  
So that's why he's so strong, thought Seras. "But if he hates vampires so much, why was he being so nice to me in the airport?"  
  
"He did not wish to cause a scene. It is also possible that he was doing it for my sake, since he knows that I like to make a good first impression. Unfortunately," he said, smiling, "circumstance really prevented it from going as I had planned. Don't pay to much attention to John, my dear. He'll come around eventually." Pierre rose to his feet and turned to leave. Seras stood and put a hand on his shoulder.  
  
"Pierre?" she said, trying out his first name for the first time.  
  
"Yes, Miss Victoria?"  
  
"Thanks. You're the only one who's been nice to me here."  
  
Pierre smiled. "It was my pleasure. Now, I believe that we both have dinner to finish. Good night, Seras."  
  
He turned and walked away. At least one person here doesn't hate me, thought Seras. Maybe I can survive here after all.  
  
----  
  
After dinner, John sat in his quarters, brooding. The sight of that little monster drinking blood had been too much for him to handle. How she could sit in the middle of the headquarters of Europe's biggest vampire hunting organization and do something so monstrous was beyond him.  
  
As John sat, scowling, there was a knock at his door. He looked at the door and called for the visitor to come in. When he saw Pierre, he scowled more fiercely. He had been expecting this since he saw Pierre go into the vampire's room, and now he steeled himself for a lecture.  
  
"What do you want, Pierre?"  
  
"I wanted to speak to you about the way you treated Miss Victoria tonight. Now, I know that you don't want to here this," he said, as John shook his head, "but I think you need to. That young woman was sitting on her bed in tears after you blew up at her."  
  
"Probably just sad that I interrupted her demon feast," replied John angrily.  
"Listen to me, John! That woman was as disgusted by that blood as you were; I could tell by the way she looked at it. She has obviously not accepted her vampirism. She may not be human any longer, but her emotions are still just as frail as they would be if she were. As a matter of fact, I think that they are more so since she became a vampire. According to the profile that Hellsing sent us, she has been a vampire for less than a year. Think of how traumatic that must be!"  
  
"Think how traumatic it was for my sister!" snarled John. "She was killed and changed into a demon by the man she loved! How can you ask me to put myself into the shoes of the monsters that killed her?"  
  
"That is pure foolishness, Carrigan. That girl was not even born when your sister was killed! She is in no way responsible for her death, and for you to blame her for it is idiotic."  
  
"John," Pierre said, sitting on the bed and putting a hand on his shoulder, "think about how well she handled herself in the terminal today. She could be an amazingly valuable asset to us. As a matter of fact, she saved your life. I was out of ammunition and so were you. If she had not killed that vampire, he would have shot you with a 40mm grenade. Even your regenerative powers could not have withstood that. You have to give her a chance."  
  
John sighed, and ran his fingers through his hair. He looked back up at Pierre, and sighed again.  
  
"All right, Pierre. You're right, I guess. I'll give her a chance. But the first time she looks at me with bloodlust in her eyes, I'm going to kill her. Deal?  
  
"Very well, that will have to do," said Pierre with a sigh. "You might want to apologize to her now, before she falls asleep. I'll leave you to it. Good night."  
  
He got up and left, leaving John to think how to apologize. John was the first to admit that he was terrible with words. Maybe a gift. . .  
  
----  
  
Seras threw the empty blood pack into the wastebasket. She had not been able to eat the other one after what John had said to her. She sat and stared at the floor, completely downcast. Her first day in Paris had not been good at all. She had been attacked in the airport, yelled at by John Carrigan, and she still had not eaten properly. She just wanted to go home.  
  
As Seras sat there bemoaning her situation, she heard the door open. She looked up and saw John standing there, his face blank. Seras shrank away from him. What was he going to do to her now? She could tell he was armed, because she could smell gun oil.  
  
John sighed, and reached under his coat. Seras almost panicked and attacked, but then she saw that he was only withdrawing a sheaf of paper. It was a 3000 franc gift certificate for one of Paris's most prominent clothing stores. She looked up at him, startled by this new turn of events.  
  
"Sorry about before," said John gruffly. "I was out of line. That certificate is to make up for it. Maybe I'll take you shopping tomorrow." He smiled slightly. "Buy you something that matches those red eyes."  
  
He turned on his heel and left. Seras stared after him in wonder. It was several moments before she could speak to thank him, and by then he was gone. She put the certificate away in the desk in her room, and lay down in the coffin that the Knights had provided. Seras sighed. She missed her four- poster from home. She drifted off to sleep, thinking that maybe things wouldn't be so bad here after all.  
  
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Well, did you like that? Am I doing a good job of keeping Seras in character? Let me know. Sorry there wasn't any action in this chapter; maybe I should change the Genre. Let me know about that as well. Thanks! 


	6. Chapter 5: Trials

Chapter 5  
  
John watched Seras run around the dress shop. She really was like a kid in a candy store. He had to admit, Seras' cheerful attitude and all around fun personality were disarming. She had made him laugh once with her antics, which was rare. She also looked very good in designer dresses.  
  
They had been in the dress shop for about two hours. Seras was modeling various dresses to see which ones John and Pierre liked. John got the feeling that she was trying to try on every single dress in the shop. The fact that she could get only one had her in an agony of indecision. She had just finished modeling the twelfth dress of the hour, a Sky-Blue sundress. John had raised an eyebrow, while Pierre had given a blunt shake of the head. Both of them were beginning to wonder if she would ever find one that satisfied her.  
  
The time was 8:30. Seras had had to get up very early to come to this shop, but she welcomed the lost sleep for an opportunity like this one. She knew that getting up an hour early two nights in a row was not only going to make her tired, it was going to make Alucard mad. Even across such great distances, their sleep patterns still influenced each other. Seras didn't particularly care, however. She was having too much fun.  
  
As Seras went back into the dressing room, John scanned the area with infrared. He had been doing this ever since the attack in the airport. If there were vampires nearby, he wanted to know about it ahead of time. The group was armed and ready. John had his entire concealed arsenal, as well as a 5.56mm SAW in the van. Pierre had his Katal and his Desert Eagle, and an M4 carbine with an M-203 grenade launcher in the van. Seras had a custom 10mm MP5-K, as well as the Halconnen, disassembled, in the van. They would not be taken by surprise again.  
  
Finished with his scan, John turned back to Pierre.  
"I'm surprised," he said. "She hasn't chosen a single blood-red dress yet. You'd think that would be the first thing she'd go for."  
  
"You might, but I wouldn't," replied Pierre. "Miss Victoria seems to have quite a bit more fashion sense than that, something that is completely foreign to you." John grunted. Their differing views on the importance of clothes had long been a friendly bone of contention between the two men. Pierre felt that a man should always look the best he could, whatever the situation, whereas John thought that if clothes covered you and your weapons, and looked halfway decent, then that was as far as they needed to go. John was dreading the fashion attacks that Seras, pushed by Pierre, would undoubtedly put upon him. They'd have him wearing pink bows before this was over.  
  
As John and Pierre bantered back and forth about each other's clothes, Seras came out of the dressing room modeling the newest dress. Both Knights stopped, stunned. Seras had chosen an evening gown that was a deep red. While not the color of blood, it was the exact shade of her eyes. A pair of red elbow-length gloves added some real elegance to the look. Some black stockings and a pair of black stiletto heels finished the outfit. It did, indeed, look stunning.  
  
"Well?" said Seras, somewhat amused by the looks on their faces, "What do you think?"  
  
"Beautiful, Miss Victoria. Excellent choice," said Pierre when he had recovered enough to talk. "I think this is the one."  
  
"Uh, yeah, looks good," said John, mentally slapping himself. Seras smiled. The fact that John had actually complemented the dress meant that it must be good. For all the others, he had either remained silent or grunted noncommittally.  
  
"I like it too!" said Seras. "Let's get it boxed up and purchased. Oh, and like I said before, call me Seras." As she went to change back into her uniform, she happily imagined Alucard's face when he saw this dress. He was sure to have some sarcastic and yet complementary comment to make, even more so when he saw that she had bought him some designer sunglasses. It would be fun to see. She hoped he would come soon.  
- - -  
  
Notre Dame rose impressively above their heads, silhouetted against a full moon. Seras ran around taking pictures to show Walter when she got home. She had used up almost all the memory in her digital camera. Just when she thought she was finished, she'd see something else that just had to be photographed.  
  
Pierre watched her run around, shaking his head at her innocent enthusiasm. Seras Victoria really was a fun person to be around. She seemed to brighten the area wherever she went. It was odd, considering that she was a creature of darkness. But more and more, Pierre was seeing that, although Seras was in body a vampire, she was in mind very much human. Perhaps that was what made her so charming.  
  
John was not watching Seras or Pierre. He was watching the street. As Notre Dame cooled for the night, it gave off heat that made it impossible to see anything near it with thermal. Because of that, John was keeping his eyes on the street. It wouldn't do to have his thermal vision messed up if a vampire showed up.  
  
As John watched the street, he saw a tour bus pull up at the curb. He frowned, puzzled. The cathedral was closed to tours at this time of night, and the tour company whose logo was on the bus did not even go to Notre Dame. John began to get suspicious. He turned on thermal vision and scanned the tour group that was exiting the bus. There was about thirty of them. When John scanned them, he saw that they all gave of little or no heat. As he watched, they all pulled out automatic weapons and aimed at his group. Oh, great.  
  
"Pierre, Seras! Look out!" shouted John. He dived to right as the ghouls began to fire, narrowly avoiding becoming hamburger. He rolled to the right and pushed off with his hands, sending him flying backwards over the ghoul's heads. He landed on the other side with his machine pistols drawn and let held down the triggers, aiming for the torsos. Several ghouls went down as the barrage of .45 rounds ripped through their hearts. As their bodies hit the ground John pulled out a grenade and rolled it into the midst of the group. He flipped away as went off, sending red-hot blessed shrapnel whistling through the ghouls' bodies. Two of them were killed by the blast. The rest were knocked to the ground. John ran forward to finish them off, but stopped when a projectile whistled by his ear. An explosion produced a crater a few meters away. He turned and saw the tour guide holding a pair of M4 carbines with 40mm grenade launchers. The vampire fired again, sending the other grenade screaming toward John. He dived out of its way just in time, and then was thrown away as the grenade went off a few feet from him.  
  
Pierre, who had taken cover behind a pillar when John had shouted, ran forward to take out the rest of the ghouls. He saw Seras blow a ghoul's head off with her MP5-K as he passed her. Pierre pulled out his Desert Eagle and fired. Six of his shots took a ghoul through the heart. The other two blew off arms at the shoulder. The remaining four ghouls ran towards him, waving long knives. Pierre smiled. This was going to be fun. If they wanted to use blades, he was ready and willing. He holstered his gun and pulled out his Katal. The deadly blades were about two feet long, and sharper than a razor. Pierre stood, waiting, as the ghouls ran toward him. The first ghoul reached him and swung its knife in a decapitating arc. Pierre ducked the swing and thrust both of his blades into the ghoul's chest, sliding between the ribs and hitting the heart. He pulled them out and then slashed upwards, decapitating the ghoul in one quick stroke. As the second ghoul reached him, Pierre used its own momentum to run it through the heart with one blade, and then slashed its head from its shoulders with the other. The next ghoul attempted to stab him in the chest with a machete. He spun to the side, dodging the thrust, and then slashed the ghoul across the stomach. As the ghoul doubled over, Pierre brought one blade up and the other down in a scissors motion, cutting off its head. Then he turned and dropped to his knees to avoid a swipe from the last ghoul's massive Bowie knife. He knocked the ghoul's legs out from under it with a sweep kick, and then jumped up and brought his blades down into its chest with all his weight, going right through its ribs. Pierre cleaned off the blades and put them back in their scabbards, and then ran to help John.  
  
John ran away from the armed vampire, trying to get to some cover. He reached the steps of Notre Dame and ran up one of the pillars. As the vampire attempted to follow his quick movement with its aim, John flipped off the top off the pillar and aimed at its face, firing as he came down. He hit the ground and rolled with the impact, and then ran forward and shot the vampire twice in the heart. John turned and saw another vampire and 5 ghouls heading out of the bus. The vampire, a huge male, was holding a 7.62mm Minigun, and the ghouls all had Uzis. The vampire fired the Minigun, narrowly missing John. He somersaulted up and over the bus. As he did Seras, who had just finished assembling the Halconnen, fired a DU round, blowing through all 5 of the ghouls. She hurriedly reloaded, slipping a huge incendiary round into the chamber.  
  
"John!" she shouted. "Get clear!" John heard her and leapt away from the bus, landing about twenty feet away on the other side. Seras fired the HEAT shell, hitting the vampire dead center. The explosion ignited both his backpack of ammo and the bus's gas tank, sending a pillar of flame into the sky. Bullets from the backpack careened through the air, forcing both John and Pierre to hit the dirt. Seras stared at the inferno in shock.  
  
"Heh," she said, blushing. "Oops."  
  
John and Pierre growled at her, and they all headed toward the van as sirens wailed in the distance.  
  
Seras took a lot of flak from John and Pierre about her accidental inferno as they went home. Any other time she would have just laughed it off, but right now she was not in the mood. She felt like a bad luck charm. Who was after her? Why were they trying to kill her? She stared at the floor, depressed. Her weekend in Paris had not gone well at all. She wished she had never come.  
  
- - -  
  
The phone rang on Integra's desk, breaking her concentration. She was not happy about this. She had been trying to get through her paperwork before midnight. This caller, whoever they were, had just ensured that she wouldn't.  
  
"Hello? This is Hellsing," barked Integra.  
  
"S-sir Integra?" said Seras' timid voice. "I have a report to give you."  
  
"A report? What could have happened in the last twenty-four hours that could possibly require a report?" said Integra, hoping for Seras' sake that she wasn't just homesick. If she was calling at this hour just to chat, there would be hell to pay.  
  
"I was attacked again."  
  
"Really," said Integra, fully interested now. "Do continue."  
  
"Well," said Seras, "I was out on a shopping trip and we went to see Notre Dame afterward. While we were there, a group of ghouls and two vampires attacked us. We're all right, but it was close. They had some major firepower. Somebody with connections doesn't like me."  
  
"Wait a minute. Back up. You were on a shopping trip?"  
  
"Oh," said Seras, realizing her mistake at admitting it. "Y-yes."  
  
"What the bloody hell were you doing shopping and touring Paris when I told you to work on finding some evidence?!" yelled Integra. "If I had wanted you to go on a vacation, I would have said so! You are in Paris on Hellsing time, and you are expected to work. What were you thinking, Police Girl?"  
  
"I'm sorry," said Seras embarrassedly, "But they gave me a gift certificate to this fancy dress shop and . . ."  
  
"I'm not interested in your excuses. Don't ever do this again, do you understand me?" Integra sighed. "Now, tell me about the attack."  
  
Seras related the details, leaving nothing out. When she had finished, Integra said,  
  
"This is more serious than I thought. Someone obviously knows why you are there and wants to stop you. This is too much for you to handle alone. I had better send Alucard to join you. In the meantime, try to stay out of trouble. Don't leave the Knights of Charlemagne headquarters unless it's an emergency. There will be no more shopping trips, understood?"  
  
"Yes sir," said Seras. "I'm sorry."  
  
"You should be. But, I suppose no one died, and now we at least know something that we didn't before. You were in error, but at least it wasn't as bad as it could have been. Therefore, you are forgiven. But you had better not pull a stunt like this again, do you hear me? Good night."  
  
Integra hung up. Seras sagged into her bed, drained. She was such an idiot! Of course Integra would be angry about the shopping trip. After all, the Director was right. Seras was supposed to have been working. But instead, she had run out to the nearest store like a stupid little girl. Feeling disgusted with herself, Seras went to bed. She just wanted this night to be over.  
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Sorry it took so long to get this up. I had a serious case of writer's block. Things should be heating up with Alucard around, huh? Should be fun! As always, please R&R. Thanks! 


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